


Hungry and Hollow

by irishavalon



Series: The Fire in Our Hearts [2]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishavalon/pseuds/irishavalon
Summary: Weasel fucks up and gives Dopinder a chance to be a merc.At first, Wade is furious. And then, he's horny.Or, What is a plot?





	Hungry and Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> The title is part of a quote from Richard Siken's "Wishbone":  
> "...I'm hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own."

Wade looks around the bar as Weasel cleans a glass in front of him. It’s been three days since he was last here, having been out of town on a job. All the regulars are here, but someone is missing. Someone usually quietly mopping the floor and periodically jumping eagerly into his conversations.

“Where’s Dopinder?” He asks Weasel. He expects his friend to tell him Dopinder is working his other job, but instead Weasel shifts uncomfortably across the bar, refusing to make eye contact.

“Oh, y’know….” he trails off, and Wade can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tries to come up with a lie. 

“Napkins!” He exclaims suddenly, eyes lighting up. He almost drops the glass in his hands in his epiphany. “He went to get...napkins….” Weasel’s expression falls again when he sees Wade isn’t buying it.

“Napkins.” Wade says skeptically, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah! We were out, you know how it is.”

“What did you do, Weasel?”

“I don’t know what…”

“What the fuck did you do?” Wade demands.

“Well….”

“Weasel,” Wade says slowly, suddenly realizing  _ exactly _ what the fuck his terrible influence of a best friend did. “Tell me you did not give Dopinder a job.”

Weasel swallows visibly, still not looking at him, and Wade’s stomach drops to the floor.  _ Shit shit fuck.  _

“Before you freak out,” Weasel says carefully, setting down the glass and holding his hands up defensively.

“ _ Ohh _ , the Wade train is way past Freak Out Station, and well on its way to Murder-Spree Town,” Wade interrupts, glaring across the bar.

“Listen, it was a small job, local, just intimidation so no killing, and he’s been nagging me about getting a job for months,” Weasel finishes quickly, taking a step back. Wade stands, jaw clenched.

“I swear to god, Weasel, if you’ve killed my getaway driver, I will….” Wade threatens, reaching out to grab Weasel by his short collar. Wade does not get a chance to finish his threat, though, because Dopinder comes running into the bar at that moment.

“I’m a Merc!” He shouts gleefully. “I broke his hands and kicked him in the balls. He won’t be bothering anyone anytime soon.”

Wade watches him across the bar. The relief in his chest and Dopinder’s apparent joy is making him deliciously hard.  _ Shit shit fuck.  _ He releases Weasel and rounds on Dopinder. Dopinder’s smile vanishes.

“Back room.  _ Now.”  _ Wade practically growls, and Dopinder’s expression relaxes, fear and guilt replaced by understanding.

“Absolutely, DP,” he says, following Wade into the room behind the bar.

“Clean up after yourselves this time,” Weasel calls. Neither man responds.

Wade slams Dopinder against the wall as soon as he closes it. Wade presses desperate lips against Dopinder’s. Dopinder gasps at the harshness, but kisses back just as intensely. 

He has to touch him everywhere. One hand wanders under Dopinder’s shirt, fingers gripping smooth, taut flesh. Wade buries his other hand into Dopinder’s pants, fondling him over his briefs. The feeling of Dopinder hardening beneath his fingers sends jolts of pleasure down his own cock as it strains against his jeans. Thank god he’s not wearing his spandex, but he doesn’t think he can take the pressure of the restraining denim much longer. 

Dopinder moans under his lips, mouth straying from Wade’s to press kisses down his pockmarked neck and then up to nip at Wade’s earlobe. Wade grunts and catches Dopinder’s lips against his own again. Dopinder’s roving fingers reach Wade’s pants, and Wade whines as Dopinder yanks the zipper down and shoves his jeans to his ankles.

Wade runs his thumb down the bulge in Dopinder’s pants.

“Wade,” Dopinder gasps.

“Hmm?” 

“Get my pants off.”

Wade doesn’t need to be told twice. He withdraws his hand and pulls Dopinder’s pants and briefs down without undoing the zipper. Then he pulls away just long enough to grab the lube he keeps in Weasel’s desk drawer for moments like this. (It weirds Weasel out, but that’s never stopped Wade from doing things before.) 

He pulls off his own briefs and grabs Dopinder by the waist, pressing them together again, lips to junk. The feeling of their hard cocks pressed against each other sends shockwaves all throughout Wade’s body. Dopinder shivers against him, proof that he is just as turned on by the touch.

Wade continues kissing Dopinder, pouring lube into his hand blindly. Then he roughly turns Dopinder around so the other man’s front is pressed against the door. Dopinder spreads his legs without being told, and Wade slides one lube-covered finger into his ass. Dopinder cries out and then sighs with pleasure. Wade leans in and trails teeth marks down the back of Dopinder’s neck. Dopinder moans, and Wade feels his cock twitch at such a beautiful sound. He desperately needs to be inside Dopinder as soon as possible.

Wade slowly pulls his finger out for a moment before pressing back in with two. Dopinder sighs his name, and this time the roughness of Wade’s teeth is replaced with gentle kisses on the small of his back.

“Being a merc is dangerous,” Wade hisses into the crook of Dopinder’s neck as he hooks his fingers in Dopinder’s ass. Dopinder writhes beneath him and moans again. 

“Being a taxi driver is dangerous, too,” Dopinder pants.

Wade straightens his fingers and then bends them again, rubbing against that sensitive spot deep inside him. Dopinder keens against the door.

“It’s not the same.” Wade growls before biting Dopinder’s ear.

“Wade! Wade,  _ please. _ ” Dopinder cries out, and Wade’s heart skips a beat. He gently pulls his fingers out of the other man, groping around on the floor to find where he dropped the bottle of lube. He covers his tense cock with the oil and guides it into Dopinder, both of them sighing in relief when it finally enters Dopinder’s hole. Wade grips Dopinder’s hips to hold him in place and pulls back almost all the way before slamming back into Dopinder. Dopinder gasps and drops one hand around his own cock, stroking in time with Wade’s movement inside him. His other hand is braced against the door, holding himself up.

Wade’s hips rock back and forth, driving himself deeper into Dopinder with each forward push. Dopinder gasps Wade’s name, and Wade kisses the side of his neck and wonders if Dopinder will make him come just by saying his name. He loosens his grip on Dopinder’s hip with one hand to wrap an arm possessively around his waist. He can feel Dopinder stroking his cock, and reaches out to wrap his hand around Dopinder’s. He’s so close, and if Dopinder’s ragged breathing is any indication, so is the other man. 

“Wade!”

“Dopinder.  _ Fuck.”  _ Wade gasps against Dopinder’s neck, and it’s this last desperate whisper that has Dopinder coming with one last cry of pleasure. Wade comes seconds later. Both men collapse against the door, panting. The last of Dopinder’s release drips over their hands, still clutching each other in the aftermath.

Wade slides out of Dopinder with a sigh as his cock softens. He wraps both arms around Dopinder’s waist again and pulls him close. Dopinder presses back against him, hands coming to rest on Wade’s own and sighing contentedly. Wade buries his face in Dopinder’s shoulder and closes his eyes. 

“Just…” Wade murmurs, and sighs. He’s never been very good at this, admitting he’s scared. He tries anyway. “Just be careful, with your weird murder dream. Okay?”

Dopinder turns his head and presses his lips against the part of Wade’s body that he can reach, which happens to be the side of his head. “I will.” He promises.

Wade tightens his grip on Dopinder and breaths into his skin. 

“One good thing, though.” Dopinder adds thoughtfully a few moments later.

“What’s that?”

“My new job really turns you on, doesn’t it?” Dopinder turns in his grasp, smiling widely.

_ Oh, Wade is  _ so  _ fucked. _

Wade presses his lips to Dopinder’s, and is smiling when he pulls away. “It really fucking does.” 


End file.
